choices
by nando x3
Summary: It is our choices that define who we are, but only the fate knows where they will take us. NOT-SLASH.


"Come with me. Reg, please..." he begged for the last time. The room was dark and the thin light of the moon, coming through the curtains, gave it a darkly tone to the place. At the door, Sirius kept on staring at the young man on the bed, with arms crossed; his expression was severe, hard, but if looked closely, there was the shadow of a tear in his eyes. Regulus, on the bed, had his had pushed against the pillow, still sobbing, but resolute in his decision.

He wasn't going with Sirius; it would bring the hell upon him if he ever considered the possibility. He, Regulus, was the loved-one of the Black family – and if Sirius were disowned, like their mother promised he would if he tried to run away, he would be the owner of everything. The boy couldn't even bring himself to consider the possibility of throwing everything away; even if it was his deepest desire, to get rid of all the responsibilities of being a Black. Sirius swallowed hard, running a hand through his hair, turning his back on his brother.

Six decided to leave his family's house on the night before. He couldn't stand that life anymore – especially now that Bellatrix was to marry. He knew his life would become a living hell (more than it already was) if he had to live anywhere near Rodolphus Lestrange, someone he despised deeply. Cissy was probably the next one on Druella and Cygnus' list and Sirius didn't doubt that they would marry her as soon as it was possible – after the shameful marriage between Andy and that "filthy mudblood" Teddy Tonks, their family was trying to cover everything up with as much good wedding as it was possible.

He was jealous of Andy, Sirius had to admit. _She_ knew how to make decisions and act the way she wanted. The oldest of the Black was erased off the Black's family tree in the moment she stepped out of the house, but up until now she hadn't show any regrets – on the contrary, she kept on needling him through letters, asking when he was going to leave that old, fetid and gloomy mausoleum and start going after what he wanted.

And he knew what he wanted – he wanted _out_. Of that life, of that family, of everything. He wanted to start anew, far away from there, with James, Remus and Peter, the Marauders; _his_ Marauders. His best friends – and the only people he could trust. James could take Lily with him, Six wouldn't mind. Peter, if he wanted so, could bring McKinnon along. Remus, poor Moony, ran away from relationship faster than Grindelwald would run from Dumbledore, so it wouldn't be a problem. And he… well, he had a lot of options to cover.

The fight with his parents on the night before was the last nail on the coffin. He had to leave, no matter what. His only link on that house – the only thing keeping him on the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black – was Regulus. His brother, so…_supple_! Sirius always feared the worse, with vipers like Bella and Cissy around. Reg tried to follow the good side, that much Sirius could see, but there was always something that made falter.

"I'm not strong enough, Sirius" Regulus used to say. "I'm cursed. I'll never be as strong as you are". The only thing his brother failed to see was the fact that, if he stayed under the wing of people like Severus Snape or Lucius Malfoy, he would be much, _much_ more cursed.

Sirius closed the door of Regulus' bedroom, with a last look to the warning on the door. In the end, his brother wasn't coming – and as much as it hurt (and it hurt a lot), he knew why. How would Reg live with his friends? He knew his brother wouldn't accept some of the things he and the Marauders did; he wouldn't understand. Sirius didn't blame him for his choice, of course: the only thing Six always wanted was for his young brother to be happy and even though he knew he wouldn't be while living with the Black, Sirius was pretty sure he wouldn't be at his side, either.

"If you want to be different…" Sirius whispered, leaning his head over the door. On the other side, Regulus had got up in the exactly moment Sirius left. He almost cogitated the possibility, _almost_. But there was so much to lose! _Too much_. He didn't mind the luxury: he was raised with pampering, yes, but Reg didn't mind that very much. Everyone knew how disappointed their parents were when Sirius turned out to be… _the way he was_ – it would kill his mother to have another son like that. He was Regulus, the Little Prince, the future of his family, the one who would honor the name of the family and shut uncle Cygnus' constant babbling about the disgrace that Reg's part of the family was. He was to be a Death Eater, like his mum wanted so bad; he wasn't allowed even to think that what he really wanted was to be as cool as Sirius was or have friends like the one Sirius had. He didn't belong to his brother's world – _his_ world was to be the same where Bellatrix, Lucius, Rodolphus and Severus (his _only_ friend) lived. He was meant to it even before he was born.

"…make the difference." Regulus whispered back, completing the phrase his brother had been repeating to him for years now, as he got closer to the door. He could hear Sirius moving away from the door and, be instinct, he ran for the window, just in time to see a broomstick flying away from the Black's house, his brother's dark hair against the wind. He wasn't the only one who saw: on the street, Bella and a group of her "friends" saw it, too, but Regulus knew she wasn't going to report him until much later – because she had much more on her mind that night. Things that made chills go down Reg's spine.

On that same night, Sirius Black arrived at the Potter's house, to live with his best friend. On that same night, Regulus Black received the Dark Mark on his arm.

It is our choices that define who we are, but only the fate knows where they will take us.


End file.
